


We Measure Our Seasons Anyway

by travels_in_time



Category: Firefly
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time
Summary: "Who brought all these gorram leaves onto my ship?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ "comment_fic" community. Theme: Autumn. Prompt: Firefly, crew, "Who brought all these gorram leaves onto my ship!?"
> 
> (This is my first attempt at Firefly fic.)

Mal ducked as yet another brightly colored leaf swept past his face. He drew in a breath, and Simon flinched. "Who brought all these gorram leaves onto my ship?"

"They were supposed to stay in our cabin," Simon said hurriedly. "She promised--"

"Leaves don't stay," River said matter-of-factly. "They're supposed to fly."

"Well, right now they're flying down my corridors and making a mess of my ship!"

"As opposed to the sterling example of cleanliness and order that it is at all other times," Wash muttered. He raised his hands defensively as Mal glared at him. "Hey, I'm just saying."

Jayne shuffled through some of the crunchier ones. "It's kinda nice. Reminds me of fall back home. Drinking hot cider, setting fires, shaking down the little kids for their candy…" He looked up at the sudden silence. "What? Like y'all ain't got traditions."

"When you say setting fires, are you talking bonfires, or--" Zoe shook her head decisively. "You know what, I don't actually want to know."

"What I want to know is who's going to clean this up." Mal brushed another wayward leaf out of his hair. "I think they're multiplying."

Simon sighed. "I'll get them. Come on, River."

"I'll help," Kaylee offered. She smiled at River. "I think they're pretty."

River stared at her for a moment, and then smiled back slowly. "Shiny."

"Yeah." Kaylee extended a hand, and River brushed her lapful of leaves away regretfully and let Kaylee pull her up.

"She doesn't ask for very much," Simon said quietly. "Which is good, because, you know." He shrugged. "She wanted autumn leaves, and…it was something I could actually give her."

"Why leaves?" Zoe wondered.

"Don't know, don't care. Clean 'em up."

Mal clearly expected that to be the end of it, but River stopped, turning back, talking to him but not looking directly at him, in that disconcerting way she had. "They changed."

"What?" Mal stared at her, as did the others.

"They were all connected. Safe. Boring. And then they changed. Prettier, brighter…but it was wrong. Dangerous. Changing made them let go, made them fall. They soared, they flew…but soon they'll die." River smiled again, watching as another few leaves fluttered past. "They shouldn't die alone."

There was another short silence. Finally Jayne offered, "You know, for a crazy chick, she's sure poetic sometimes."

"Also kind of gruesome," Mal pointed out. He blew out a breath, resigned, and looked at Simon. "Once your sister the Leaf Whisperer is all done with whatever funerary ritual she's concocted, make sure the, uh, corpses are all properly disposed of. Anywhere you like as long as it's _not on my ship_."

"Yes. Absolutely." Simon nodded earnestly before hurrying along the corridor after the girls.

Wash looked over at Zoe far too casually. "You know, something about that speech just sort of…"

She nodded. "I know." She raised an eyebrow at Mal. "Think you can do without us for a while, sir? We'll be in our cabin. Contemplating our mortality."

"That what they're calling it nowadays?" Mal called as they left.

Jayne leered after them and headed off for his own, thankfully unspecified, pursuits. Mal kicked a few leaves down the corridor. The colors did bring back memories, of various autumns on various planets. Warm drinks, fall feasts, bonfires under clear starlit skies…

There were no seasons out here, no feasts, and if they were lucky, no damn bonfires, but clear starlit skies were the one thing they did have in abundance. Mal headed for the cockpit, already looking forward to the view.

**Author's Note:**

> “In space there are no seasons, and this is as true of the ships that cross the distances between humanity's far-flung homes. But we measure our seasons anyway: by a smile, a silence, a song.”
> 
> ― Yoon Ha Lee, Conservation of Shadows


End file.
